THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1997, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Tuesday, February 11, 1997 TAG: 9702110046
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY GREG WEATHERFORD, LANDMARK NEWS SERVICE
DATELINE: RICHMOND LENGTH: 129 lines
ESTELLE TAYLOR sits on a maroon upholstered bench in the Virginia Capitol, peers at the raucous crowd of state lawmakers gathered in rows on the Senate floor below, and watches as they build the state's laws.
``I have a love of this Capitol and the state of Virginia and the governing body,'' says Taylor, 70, explaining why she took the day off from her job as a vice president of a Chesterfield County credit union to come watch the legislature.
``I like being here,'' she adds. ``It gives you a good feeling. I love the building because it's beautiful, and because it's the Capitol of the state of Virginia.''
Taylor's in good company. Every day while the General Assembly is in session, thousands of people file into the galleries some 15 feet above lawmakers' seats. High school students, lobbyists, tourists, curiosity-seekers and those obsessed with government gather here.
Here, in the whispered confines of the balcony galleries, Tommy Hilfiger mixes with Brooks Brothers. Buttons sporting anti-abortion messages face off with buttons lauding rock 'n' roll bands.
In a tradition as old as democracy itself, the observers watch from the front rows as lawmakers bicker, bargain, swap stories and vote.
Beyond the occasional difficulty of finding a parking place near Capitol Square, nothing bars easy access. No metal detectors or police searches, no reservations or passes. All people have to do is show up.
``It's a very important symbol of the openness of government, the accessibility of government,'' Lt. Gov. Donald Beyer says of the public galleries, which he can look up to and see as he presides from his dais in the Senate. When citizens can watch laws being made and can buttonhole their legislators in the hallways, he adds, ``Government isn't far-off, distant, removed. It's very real and very human and very personal.''
And, Beyer points out, lawmaking can be good theater.
``The people we elect tend to have large, colorful personalities,'' he says. ``They tell stories, they can quote Shakespeare and the Bible - and they'll use them all on the Senate floor.''
The interchange among the politicians, says longtime General Assembly-observer Catherine Giordano, ``has much more nuances than the best chess game in the world. . . . I'm in sales, and watching them work is like going for a Ph.D.''
ADMISSION TO THIS SHOW is free, and all are welcome - as long as there are seats available. The public galleries for the state Senate and House of Delegates each seat about 90 people, and often fill up with sightseers and student groups. Some 30 seats in each gallery officially are reserved for legislators' spouses and other VIPs.
On this day, Giordano, a Virginia Beach resident and former chairman of the state Alcoholic Beverage Control Board, is watching for bills that might affect government procurement procedures.
She's also watching House Speaker Tom Moss, whom she calls a friend, as he marshals the legislative troops and tries to get the people's business accomplished. Far below Giordano's perch, he rattles off bill titles with an auctioneer's cadence and confidence.
``Speaker Moss brings a very contemporary attitude toward the environment of making law,'' Giordano says in an admiring whisper. ``His ability to keep humor as part of it. . . is what's impressed me.''
Others come for other reasons. Michael D. Collins, a 34-year-old elevator maker from Winchester, is in Richmond to try to support a bill requiring annual elevator inspections.
The purple knit shirt on his barrel chest bears an AFL-CIO name tag. As a union member, he's come to the General Assembly for years. Though he says his close observations haven't made him cynical about the lawmaking process, he evinces a certain jaded practicality. The No. 1 lesson he's learned about politics and lawmaking: ``You gotta have a good aide.'' Aides, Collins says, often tell legislators how to vote on the hundreds of bills streaming through the capitol. ``A lot of times,'' he adds, ``these guys sign off on stuff that they're not even aware that they're on as sponsors.''
DAY BY DAY, the crowds ebb and flow in the galleries. At times the benches fill with tourists and high school students - some of whom whisper loudly or drift gently to sleep. Other times, the benches sit vacant for an hour or so as the legislators go about the state's business below.
Students, lobbyists, business people: The General Assembly's doorkeepers see them all. Jim Melvin, who often sports a snappy bow tie, has opened the House of Delegates' gallery doors for the past seven years, ever since he retired from Virginia Power at age 55. His companion in the gallery is Capitol policeman Chip Canady. The burly officer keeps a record of each day's bills and how they fared, so he can keep visitors informed.
On the other side of the Capitol, doorkeeper Carrington Goode, 79, helps run the Senate gallery, as he has for the past seven years since retiring as a department-store manager.
``It's all right,'' he says of his doorkeeper job. ``You meet some interesting people.''
Some are particularly memorable: A few years ago, Beyer recalls, a man ``fell down on his knees and started praising the Lord. He had to be carried out of there by four police officers.''
As Goode says, ``They drug him out. He didn't want to go.''
That's about as ticklish as things have been, say those interviewed for this story. But some worry that times may change - that the threat of violence may begin shutting the General Assembly's open doors.
Last year, a man drove onto the Capitol grounds and up to the Executive Mansion with a rifle in his car. And though most states' legislative offices remain accessible, visitors to the U.S. Congress now must file through metal detectors.
Perhaps, some observers say, the day of truly open-door government is in its twilight.
``We live in a difficult world, where people take assault weapons to the White House, where letter bombs are in the mail,'' Beyer says. ``I just pray that we continue the state of affairs where there have been no disruptions. . process can be.
``It's really of the people, by the people and for the people.'' ILLUSTRATION: Photos by JAY PAUL/Special to The Virginian-Pilot
[Color]
Andre Kosovych, a fourth-grader at Taylor elementary in Norfolk,
takes some snapshots of the Assembly. With him are classmates Ryan
pierce (in blue) and Tommy Donovan (in red).
[Color]
Students from Brooklin Middle School in Richmond watch the House
proceedings: Blair Harris, Shannon Garland, Kerri Buster, Cassandra
Walker and Yuri Norrell.
Above: Doorkeeper Carrington Goode, 79, and page Jessica Pierson,
13, outside the Senate gallery. Right: Emily Baker, 5, of Gates City
looks on as Rip and Norma Green of Virginia Beach wait to see if
they will be able to get into a crowded gallery. Capitol policeman
Chip Canady eventually found seats for them.
KEYWORDS: GENERAL ASSEMBLY